When the Flames Creep Toward Your Backyard

As I write this, all the windows to my house are shut tightly to block out the smoke-filled air. It’s a good thing I’ve gotten used to wearing a mask, because it’s not safe to go outside without one – even without any people around who might be carrying a deadly virus. Who would have ever thought I’d have more than one reason to wear an N95?

I’m located outside of Portland, Ore., and the last few days have been tense, with historic wildfires burning more than a million acres across the state, hundreds of homes lost, evacuees filling up parking lots and smoke creating the worst air quality in the world. I spent a couple of days anxiously refreshing the evacuation map for Clackamas County, where most of my loved ones are located and two of the state’s largest fires, Riverside and Beachie Creek, have continued to burn. My family and I were fortunate to remain in evacuation Level 1 out of 3 (1 means “get ready,” 2 “get set” and 3 “go!”), and as of this writing on Sept. 13, the evacuation warning has been removed altogether, with cooler, wetter weather expected to arrive to help firefighters get the spread under control.

The panic got real for my close friend Stef, however, who lives with her husband in a part of the county that’s closer to the wildfire. They spent the evening of Sept. 10 packing up irreplaceable mementos and antiques, taking photos and video of their house for insurance purposes, and going to bed with their cell phone ringers on so they would hear the potential notification from the county to “go!” How they even got to sleep at all that night remains a mystery. (Update: Their neighborhood has since been downgraded from ­Level 2 to 1.)

Two-thousand, three-hundred miles away, residents of the city of Lake Charles, La., have been reeling over the devastation caused by Hurricane Laura. While the Oregon wildfire crisis hit close to home for me literally, Hurricane Laura hit close to home for me figuratively. I spent a year living in Lake Charles, from 2006 to 2007, as the community was still rebuilding from Hurricane Rita. The folks there are tough, devoted to their home state and known to not let a bad storm drive them away, but Laura was one of the worst assaults they’ve endured, as one can clearly see from any of the aerial photos that have been posted of the damage.

I searched through those aerial photos to see if I could find out what happened to my former apartment building in Lake Charles. While I couldn’t find any photos of the apartment, I found a jarring one of an Auto Zone store located just one block from the building where I lived. Laura had ripped its entire roof off in one piece, flipped it over and deposited it nearby, littering the land with debris in the process. From afar, it looked like the lid had been blown off of a cardboard box filled with toys.

My heart goes out to all the credit union employees and members – both near my current and former homes – who have been affected by one of these natural disasters. These are difficult days, but they also bring another opportunity for credit unions to do what they do best – help people in need.

The Northwest Credit Union Foundation has activated its ­disaster relief fund, allowing credit unions affected by the region’s wildfires to apply for assistance grants. And the Northwest Credit Union Association shared stories of ways local credit unions have supported their members, like Ironworkers USA Federal Credit Union in Portland, which welcomed evacuating families into its parking lot and provided dinner, water and activities for children. I’m sure stories like these will multiply in the days to come.

When ‘Going Virtual’ is Just Normal Life

You may have heard CUNA’s announcement that GAC – the industry’s largest annual conference usually held in Washington, D.C. – will be a virtual conference in March 2021. The decision was made six months in advance and served as a reality check for anyone who thinks life will be “back to normal” by the spring.

I asked credit union professionals on LinkedIn to share their reactions to CUNA’s decision, and I was pleasantly surprised by the thoughtful responses. Here are a few:

“It’s a bummer of course, but it would have been irresponsible to hold it in person. I think CUNA absolutely made the right call. We have to work together to get through this, and it means sacrifice. Communities, D.C. included, can’t afford super-spreader events. Likewise, our communities at home can’t afford for us to risk bringing the virus back after mingling with thousands of our colleagues from all over.”

“Disappointed! I would have traveled in March. I understand there are still some concerns but the event will not be the same virtually. But we will do whatever it takes to continue the credit union movement.”

“I’ve attended several virtual conferences this year and the experiences haven’t been great. The presentations are good but the lack of real networking kills it. Most have chat rooms, which are a poor substitute. The only virtual experience I’ve really liked was a training and the best part of that was when we broke out into Zoom rooms and could interact visually with others.”

“Whether we like it or not, it’s the only move CUNA could responsibly make!”

“Not much you can do here. GAC (2020) was the last event I attended pre-COVID and even at that time I think many were nervous. It’s tough to have the same impact with a virtual event. But there are not a lot of options left and time is tight.”

I’m with those last two commenters. Will a virtual GAC be comparable to an in-person experience? Nope. Was turning it into a virtual event the best decision? Yep.

Not all credit union event organizers are sticking with a virtual format. The National Credit Union Management Association’s 2020 Fall Conference is scheduled to take place Sept. 26-30 at the Coeur d’Alene Resort in Idaho.

According to the group’s website, attendees will be required to wear masks, undergo daily temperature checks and sit individually at spaced-out tables. They’ll also choose to wear one of three colored wristbands. A red wristband means (and this is how the meanings are described on the website, word for word): “I’m keeping my distance! I’m nice, but do not want to talk to or get close to anyone!” Purple means, “I’m OK with talking, but let’s not get too close!” and green means, “I’m OK talking and am not concerned with social distancing!”

Will these precautions be enough to prevent COVID-19 from spreading between attendees? The mid-October COVID-19 case numbers might give us a clue, but one thing that’s certain now is that the virus won’t care about the color of someone’s wristband.

Natasha Chilingerian is executive editor for CU Times. She can be reached at nchilingerian@cutimes.com.